


Win Some, Lose Some

by TitaniumKitten



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Post Backlash, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumKitten/pseuds/TitaniumKitten
Summary: Sometimes life sucks. A good thing is having someone around who is willing to help you pick up the pieces.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I will eventually get back to my wip, I promise. This has been sitting in Google docs for about 3 weeks waiting for me to write a fluffier, happier second chapter. That never came, so I decided to polish it up a bit today and post what I have. Thanks to dahdeemohn for the Seger head canon. Listened to the songs in this fic while writing and sobbing like a gd baby.

Dean slowly walked out of the arena, pulling his suitcase with a bag slung over his shoulder. He had opted to slink away unnoticed. He didn’t want any of the pitying glances, the murmured platitudes. Not like many of them cared anyway, besides Becky and a handful of others. He was not going to cry. Not going to give that jackass the satisfaction. 

“Fuckin’ asshole. Trying to take out the best nads in the business.” He groused, getting in his rental car and taking a deep sigh before heading back to his hotel room. 

He fiddled with the radio, letting out a pleased noise as Night Moves by Bob Seger flowed out of the radio like the best summer wine. He opened the windows and sang loudly, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, letting the cool night air brush through his unruly curls. He must have been the luckiest man alive, besides the title loss, because the next song that came on was Against the Wind. He figured he must have somehow stumbled across the only radio station in the country that still had any class and he jammed along, swiveling his shoulders to the beat as well as he could. The classic saxophone intro to Turn the Page was up next and he crooned along, tapping his foot, he didn’t realize he was crying until the first tear slipped off his cheek.

“Dammit!” He cursed angrily, slapping a hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck this shit.” He was tempted to find a liquor store and drink it, but he knew Roman was waiting back at the hotel; he’d insisted Roman get some sleep rather than watch the match from backstage. Getting sloppy drunk with him was way better than doing it on his own, but there was no way in hell he wanted to get recognized bawling while buying a case of Jack. Not right now, anyway.

Just as Turn the Page finished he found a parking spot at the hotel and headed up to their suite. Roman must have been keeping an eye out, as the door opened just as Dean reached it. He was given a once over and Roman took the bags, placing them against the far wall. 

“Shower.” Roman gently ordered, pulling Dean into the bathroom and undressing him.

Dean belatedly realized he was still crying. Huh.

Once Dean was naked, Roman cupped his head in his big hands, giving him a few chaste kisses before starting the shower. He made sure the temperature was perfect before helping Dean under the spray and cleaning them both with the complementary body wash.

“Coconut.” Dean said dully as the scent of the body wash wafted to his nose.

Roman just gave him a careful smile and finished cleaning Dean, nudging him out of the shower and wrapping a large fluffy towel around him. Briskly rubbing Dean down, he wrapped one of the hotel robes around him and had him sit on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of him Roman cupped his hands around Dean’s face again, studying him silently for a few moments.

When he spoke Dean was ridiculously happy to not hear a shred of pity in his voice.

“What do you need?”

Dean tried to look away, but Roman held him firm. His hands fidgeted.

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. Don’t be shy. How many times have you done this for me?”

Dean conjured up a crooked smile.

“More than I should have had to. Damn Triple H and his minions.”

There was a long pause

“Are you glad I lost?”

He regretted the question, but Roman didn’t show any sign of emotion besides tightening his hands around Dean’s face slightly.

“You know the answer to that. You’re trying to push me away, babe. That ain’t gonna happen. What do you need?”

“Can we..” Dean’s voice cracked. “Can you just hold me?”

“As long as you want.”

Roman lay with Dean’s head pillowed on his chest, one lanky arm flung across his thick waist while he held Dean clasped in his arms. An occasional kiss to the ginger blonde mop was interspersed with murmurs of loving praise. When Dean moved to push away, Roman just held him tighter, whispering sweet nothings until his body would relax once again. 

When Dean finally drifted off he was at peace.


End file.
